


Let There Be No More Marriages

by malacophilous (orphan_account)



Category: Jeeves & Wooster
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-19
Updated: 2010-06-19
Packaged: 2017-10-10 04:48:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/95656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/malacophilous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After yet another close scrape with barely-avoided matrimony, Bertie revels in his freedom--and marvels at his ease of escape--on the drive back to the metrop.  Evil!Jeeves is wise not to explain his methods.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let There Be No More Marriages

Bertie twiddled the wheel to avoid a sway-bellied cat that had wandered into the road.

'I say, Jeeves, close call, that, wasn't it?'

Jeeves, who sat primly beside him in the passenger seat, bowler hat resting in his lap, raised a brow that Bertie, as his eyes were on the road ahead, did not see.

'The animal appears unharmed, sir.'

'No, Jeeves, not the cat,' said Bertie, 'that blasted engagement! I mean to say, she just about had the gives upon the Wooster wrists, what?'

'I confess to a certain level of apprehensiveness myself, sir.'

'But you, Jeeves,' said Bertie round his cigarette, 'you solved it, as always. How in blazes did you vouchsafe my freedom this time? One moment she was prattling on about sterling silver napkin rings for the wedding breakfast, and the next—well, we're on our merry way back to the metrop. without a scratch on us! I know a true magician never reveals his secrets, but by Jove, I'd dearly love to see how you managed it!'

'It was not I, sir,' said Jeeves solemnly. 'Day before last, when your erstwhile fiancée went into London for a lunch appointment, an old flame suddenly reappeared in her life. She and the gentleman in question decided to elope to America. The Fates, it seems, sir, were on our side.'

'Well, gosh! How terribly modern of her, eloping like that—didn't pin her as the type, if you catch my d.'

'We all, to a one, have hidden depths,' Jeeves replied.

Bertie knew not that his valet had crept through the manor in the dark hours of the previous morning, gathering the girl's belongings and planting forged letters of farewell to her family and friends. Bertie was blissfully unaware of the unexpected flat tyre the girl fell victim to on the road into the village, the approaching figure in the darkness appearing to offer aid, the dull thump, the sudden cessation of breath. Bertie had no inkling of the pre-dug grave in the wood just off the road, nor was he cognizant that there was not, and never had been, any marriage-minded gentlemen in the girl's life.

'You're like those, what-d'you-call-them, the Canadian Mounted Police, Jeeves! Troubles may horn in and V-shaped depressions may mar the horizon, but by golly, you always get your man—so to speak.'

'Indeed, sir,' said Jeeves, staring out of the window at the fields beyond.


End file.
